


Life could be so easy.

by LunaDoesIt, Poetess_noire (Pyjamagurl)



Series: Everything is clearer in a Mirror. [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 04:44:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1291828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaDoesIt/pseuds/LunaDoesIt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyjamagurl/pseuds/Poetess_noire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I’ve had my suspicions that Derek’s family is from German origin. Talia, Cora, Derek sound pretty non-angleterre. Laura is good in both languages.</p><p>So I decided to look up the last name: Hale is a surname. The possible origins of this name are from the Old Saxon “haelaeh,” meaning “hero,” with later connotations of strong, courageous, healthy, robust, etc. (wikipedia/google/last name website) Old Saxon = German. Yay, I was right and gosh does the name fit. Derek is a hero. :-) And nobody can convince me otherwise!</p><p>So in light of this I decided on German names for Derek's siblings. Hope you enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Life could be so easy.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had my suspicions that Derek’s family is from German origin. Talia, Cora, Derek sound pretty non-angleterre. Laura is good in both languages.
> 
> So I decided to look up the last name: Hale is a surname. The possible origins of this name are from the Old Saxon “haelaeh,” meaning “hero,” with later connotations of strong, courageous, healthy, robust, etc. (wikipedia/google/last name website) Old Saxon = German. Yay, I was right and gosh does the name fit. Derek is a hero. :-) And nobody can convince me otherwise!
> 
> So in light of this I decided on German names for Derek's siblings. Hope you enjoy.

__

_Scott’s supposed to meet him after his shift at the vets so they can study together. Differential equations aren’t Scott’s friend. But he doesn’t show up at seven like they’d planned, so Stiles assumes that he got held up and goes to raid the fridge for something for dinner, and then heads back upstairs to do more reading. Midterms are a bitch, but a necessity._ __  
  
He texts Scott at half past seven, telling him to hurry up, and then falls asleep somewhere around the third page of his textbook after reading the same paragraph four times. __  
  
He wakes with a start to find his computer screen has gone to sleep, and his book is stuck to his face. He peels the page away from his face as he sits up, frowning at his chemistry notes; hadn’t he been reading about Stalin before he fell asleep?  
  
He checks his phone. Still nothing from Scott. There’s a couple from Derek though, but he ignores those, Derek’s texts tend to be the boring kind that remind him to keep an eye on Scott, or ask if Scott is aware of their next bout impending doom. There’s also a text from Laura, and he doesn’t think he knows a Laura so he ignores that too. He fires another text of ** _did you forget?_** _then spins around on his computer chair, working at a kink in his neck, eyes stopping on the_ _Slow Kids at Play_ _poster on the wall. Hadn’t he put that on the other wall last week? His phone buzzes.  
  
_ ** _Did I forget what?_** __  
  
Stiles frowns. _Studying?_ _He waits a second and then sends;_ ** _Did you ditch me for Allison again?_** _He doesn’t have to wait long for a reply.  
  
_ ** _Who’s Allison?_** __  
  
What? Stiles scrubs a hand over his bristly hair. Has he woken up in an alternate universe or something, because at the moment things feel distinctly weird. Perhaps he’s still dreaming. _  
  
_ ** _I’m with Lydia_** _comes the next text, and okay, yeah something is definitely going on. There’s a niggle of hurt unfurling in his chest, because for all that Stiles is slowly accepting that he and Lydia are never going to happen, there’s still a part of him that loves her, that has loved her since he was nine. And even though they don’t talk about it, Scott knows that._ _  
  
_ ** _Doesn’t Jackson mind?_** _Stiles bounces his knee as he waits for a reply, holding the phone too tightly in his hand. He’s starting to get worried, too much doesn’t feel right, and he can’t work out_ _why_ _._ _  
  
_ ** _Why would Jackson mind?_** __  
  
Yeah, something is definitely wrong. Heart beating so loudly his pulse is thumping in his ears, he scrolls through his cell back up to Derek’s texts, and those aren’t making any sense either, too familiar, too worried. And the one from Laura says _give him a break, he’s trying._ _Which what?_  
  
The doorbell rings, and Stiles looks up in confusion, he doesn’t think he’s heard their doorbell ring in years. Everyone he knows either tends to have keys, walk right in or jump through a window. It rings again as he raises himself from his seat. __  
  
Everything seems the same as he heads downstairs. The same wallpaper, the middle stair still creaks, the same chip in the banister from where Stiles dropped Megatron from the top landing when he was seven. The same pictures of his mom and dad on their wedding day, and another from that summer before his mom got sick sit on the table at the bottom of the stairs. __  
  
The doorbell rings again as Stiles reaches out to open the door, and he’s about to snap something about patience, but instead he ends up standing there with his mouth hanging open.  
  
Derek Hale is standing on his doorstep. Derek Hale whose face lights up a bit when he lays eyes on him, whole face softer than Stiles has ever seen. It takes him a moment to realise the lack of black clothing too. Derek is wearing a dark green hoodie and dark blue jeans and he looks younger and more relaxed. Even his hair is less spiky and angry looking. It scares the hell out of him. __  
  
‘Uh, what are you doing here?’ Stiles asks. ‘Normally you use the window.’  
  
‘I er, thought you’d appreciate the gesture,’ Derek says, looking like he’s fidgeting as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. Is Derek nervous? ‘We were meant to meet twenty minutes ago, I tried calling you.’  
  
‘Yeah… I—why?’ Stiles says. Derek doesn’t reply immediately, he takes a step forward, leaning too close into Stiles’ personal space, so close that it really looks like Derek is about to kiss him or grab his hand, or something else weirdly intimate. And whoa, no. Stiles raises a hand to Derek’s shoulder, holding him away. Derek pulls back, looking confused, like _Stiles_ _is the one behaving oddly._  
  
‘Look, I’m sorry about how I reacted,’ Derek says. ‘I get it, okay, Laura ranted at me for half an hour about going easy on you and giving you a break. I know we… I know this is a lot, okay. I know you’re worried about what the Sheriff will say.’  
  
‘Laura?’ Stiles echoes. Everything about what Derek has said makes no sense, none of it, he has no context to put it in, though clearly there’s _something_ _going on here, and Stiles is sure he’s still dreaming. He has to be, it’s the only explanation. It’s the only way Laura Hale can possibly be in this conversation without a look of pain crossing Derek’s features. Laura’s the easiest part of all that to latch onto._ __  
  
‘Uh huh,’ Derek says, a frown pinches his features, but it’s not like any that Stiles is used to, it’s confused and worried but in an affectionate way that Stiles doesn’t even know how to deal with. ‘She always sides with you.’  
  
‘She does?’ Stiles says, he can feel the edges of a panic attack forming, the familiar bubbling of nausea in the pit of his stomach, his heart beating erratically as he tries to make sense of what Derek is saying. __  
  
This isn’t right. Derek is talking like Laura never died, acting like he’s not got the weight of the world on his shoulders, and Scott has never heard of Allison. Things are twisted, different in a huge way that Stiles doesn’t know how to deal with. __  
  
He takes deep breaths, cowers away when Derek’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, the look on his face is pure worry, but Stiles pinches his eyes shut and focuses on steadying his breathing. __  
  
‘Stiles?’  
  
Stiles’ eyes fly open, his breath stolen from him as he looks up and sees a woman with dark brown hair and eyes the same shade as his own. __  
  
‘Mom?’  
  
He doesn’t think. He closes the distance between them, pulling her into a hug and holding on tight. It doesn’t feel right. The last time he hugged her he was ten and he’d been tall enough that he could reach her chest when he hugged her—there’d been machines too, wires he’d had to be careful to avoid pulling out, and he’d had to be careful not to hold so tight she’d bruise—now he’s taller, his mom’s head barely coming to shoulder height. But he holds on and he breathes in and remembers. She doesn’t smell like he remembers either. __  
  
‘Honey,’ his mom says, voice muffled by Stiles’ shirt, she’s hugging him back tentatively, like he’s scaring her. ‘Are you okay? Did something happen?’  
  
‘Sheriff,’ Derek’s voice is stiff, and Stiles pulls back to look at Derek—he’s all rigid straight lines and awkward, more the Derek he’s familiar with—and then looks out the door expecting to see his dad wandering in. There’s no one there, he blinks down at his mom instead. __  
  
It’s then that he notices the khaki uniform he’s used to seeing on his dad, smaller and neater. The familiar gold star clipped to the pocket of the jacket reading Sheriff, but that’s not right either. She looks older than the pictures that Stiles has of her, than the childlike memories he has hidden away, but healthier and whole in a way he and his dad hadn’t seen for too long. __  
  
‘Derek,’ his mom says, but her eyes are on Stiles, wide and worried. The panic attack is building again, his heartbeat too loud in his ears. His dad isn’t the Sheriff, his mom is, so then where is his dad?  
  
‘Where’s dad?’ Stiles hears himself ask, and he barely registers the look of shock and confusion on his mom’s face before her hands are on his face, and she’s rubbing her thumbs soothingly across his cheeks. And he _knows_ _. He knows that the opposite of his world is true in this one. His dad isn’t here. ‘No…’_  
  
‘Stiles—’  
  
‘No,’ Stiles says more firmly. Her face is a blur as he pulls back and away, pushes past Derek as he stumbles towards the stairs. He ignores his mom calling his name and their worried looks and flees to the bathroom, slamming the door and sitting down on the edge of the tub. He puts his head between his knees and tries to remember how to breathe. __  
  
His hands are shaking where they are resting on the back of his head, the tears that seep from his eyes drip onto the knees of his cargo pants, and he runs a quivering hand over his face. His dad isn’t here, that means his dad is stuck somewhere else without him and is probably worried sick. This isn’t right at all. He’s wished his mom never died a hundred million times, but this isn’t what he wanted. He can’t imagine a life where his mom survived and his dad didn’t. __  
  
He pinches his arm hard, praying this is a dream, but all it does is hurt and when he opens his eyes it’s the same familiar but unfamiliar bathroom that he’s sitting in. Bizarro world it is then. __  
  
He has no idea how long he sits there before there’s a soft knock on the door, but he ignores it. He scrubs at his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie, and tries to wrack his brain as to how he got here, where _here_ _. is and how he can possibly get home to his dad. It’s not much comfort that there must be another Stiles, a Stiles that belongs to Derek and his mom, a Stiles that’s going to look at his dad the way he looked at his mom._ __  
  
‘Stiles,’ Derek’s voice carries through the door, soft and careful. He knocks again and then tries the door; it swings open enough that Derek can peer around at him. ‘Something’s going on, isn’t it?’  
  
‘Yeah,’ Stiles says croakily, swallowing thickly as he rubs a hand over his mouth. ‘This isn’t… this isn’t—’ he wants to say “right” but that’s not the word he’s looking for, not when Derek is looking at him like someone has stolen something important to him. Because someone has, this Derek has a sister and probably has friends; this Derek doesn’t know loss like the Stiles Derek knows, he can tell by how he holds himself. This Derek knows a Stiles who might love him, and lost his father instead of his mother. ‘Mine.’  
  
Derek cautiously takes a step further into the room, closing the door behind him before he steps towards the tub and sits a foot or so away from Stiles. Stiles knows he’s holding himself back, can tell by the awkward way he doesn’t know what to do with his hands before he settles them on his knees. He’s still frowning like he doesn’t understand, like he’s missing some grand piece of the puzzle that Stiles has already put together. __  
  
‘Did you… did you hit your head?’ Derek asks. He reaches out a hand to Stiles’ shoulder like he can’t help himself, the touch gentle but strong, intended to ground Stiles but when Stiles looks at it he feels scared, this isn’t meant for him. __  
  
‘No,’ Stiles says, he stands up, ignoring the hurt look on Derek’s face as he begins pacing across the bathroom. ‘Look, I was studying, I fell asleep and when I woke up everything was _different_ _.’_  
  
‘Different?’ Derek asks quietly, Stiles can practically see the cogs in his brain working as he tries to make sense of what Stiles is saying.  
  
‘Yes, different,’ Stiles says, frustrated, waving a hand in the air. ‘My mom’s alive, my dad’s dead, Scott’s never heard of Allison—don’t,’ he says when Derek looks confused at the mention, ‘And you… I don’t even know where to begin. You’re still a werewolf, right?’  
  
‘Uh huh,’ Derek says slowly. __  
  
‘And your sister’s alive.’  
  
‘Why wouldn’t Laura be alive?’ Derek asks. __  
  
‘Because in my world she’s dead,’ Stiles says clenching his jaw when Derek looks at him in bemusement. __  
  
‘I think we need to talk to my parents,’ Derek says, confused. Stiles stares at him, Derek’s parents are still alive. He feels something uncomfortably leaden settle in his stomach. __  
  
‘Oh god your parents are alive too,’ Stiles says before he can stop himself. Derek looks alarmed and stands up, carefully putting his hands on Stiles’ arms and drawing him to a stop. He doesn’t think he can do this, this Derek is so untainted, undamaged, and unburdened that he’s almost unrecognisable. __  
  
‘Stiles,’ Derek says. ‘It’s okay. We’ll go to the house, and you can tell them what happened.’  
  
‘Derek, I don’t—’  
  
‘They can fix this,’ Derek says. ‘They can find a way.’  
  
‘We don’t know what _this_ _is,’ Stiles says, feeling angry when he meets Derek’s gaze and there’s not answering anger there, just fear and affection and concern._ __  
  
‘They know things,’ Derek says in a voice intended to be soothing. ‘Maybe this is a spell like the one those witches did to Jackson last summer.’  
  
‘This isn’t a spell, Derek!’ Stiles shouts, pulling away from Derek’s hold, putting as many feet between them as the bathroom will allow. __  
  
‘You can’t know that,’ Derek says.  
  
‘My life isn’t a lie,’ Stiles says, hunching his shoulders. ‘Your life isn’t a lie either… I need to get home.’  
  
‘You think…’ Derek frowns and goes quiet, his whole body radiating unhappiness as he processes everything Stiles has said. His jaw is bunched, his eyebrows pulled together, for a brief moment he looks like the Derek Stiles knows, and Stiles’ heart clenches in his chest. He doesn’t want to be the one who puts that look there. ‘You think you come from another reality?’  
  
‘Yes,’ Stiles says. ‘I know it sounds like something from a TV show, but trust me—’  
  
‘I do,’ Derek says quickly, and Stiles meets his eye. His mouth goes a bit dry because this is a Derek that _trusts_ _people, that trusts_ _him_ _. It doesn’t feel right to have not earned it somehow._ __  
  
‘So I don’t know how I got here, but this isn’t where I’m from,’ Stiles says, biting his lip as he looks away again. ‘It’s like… like a mirror, distorted, some things are the same but things are different too. I have… I have people I have to get back to.’ __  
  
‘And I need my Stiles back,’ Derek says, and when Stiles looks around at him in surprise it is to Derek looking a lot more determined and sure than he has in the last ten minutes. ‘So we go and talk to my mom and dad and Laura, and we figure this out, okay?’  
  
‘Okay,’ Stiles says. __  
  
‘You probably want to get back to your Derek too,’ Derek says, brushing past Stiles as he moves to open the bathroom door. He pauses to let Stiles pass him. The look on his face is open and earnest. ‘Right?’  
  
‘Right,’ Stiles says, because it’s easier than explaining that whatever Derek has with Stiles here is something different and more special than anything he’ll ever have. He doesn’t want to think too much at just what that all is. He doesn’t want to think too much about the fact that he _does_ _want to get back to his world and his Derek who is angrier and damaged, but_ _fits_ _._ __  
  
And he doesn’t want to think about the odd hopeful feeling in his chest that is that maybe, maybe if Derek and Stiles got a chance in this world, then perhaps somewhere along the line he and Derek will have something too. __  
  
It isn’t a thought he lets himself have often. __  
  
More importantly, he needs to get back to his dad, he needs to get back to a world that makes sense even if it is filled with dark things and danger, and life-threatening peril.  
  
He leads the way down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to look at the pictures that stand on the table. He can feel Derek draw up behind him, careful to keep his distance.  
  
‘Can I say goodbye?’ __  
  
‘Yeah,’ Derek says, the hand that lands on Stiles’ shoulder squeezes lightly. ‘I’ll wait in the car.’

_< ><><_

 

The drive in Derek’s car didn’t take long. Not nearly long enough for Stiles to work through all the emotion he had felt talking to his mother. Stiles had told her that he would stay at Derek’s place for a few days. And, WOW, his mother hadn’t even flinched. He was sure even though he seemed to be in a relationship with Derek that his Dad wouldn’t be as ok with staying over as his mother was.

Stiles hadn’t told his mother what he thought was happening to him though, no need for her to worry. However Stiles did feel the pain and anguish of losing his mother all over again. He was sure there was a panic attack looming in the nearby future. He just had to keep it together until he had talked to, ugh how was this even real?, Derek’s parents.

Huh. Now that he thought about it... Stiles was about to meet his uhm... werewolf-in-laws for the first time. Nope, nope, nope, he wasn’t going there. This was seriously becoming too much for him to handle.

 

When they reached the Hale residence Stiles was stunned out of his reverie. He got out of the car as quickly as he could manage. He’d remembered the Hale house intact from the two times he had seen it when he was little. However apparently his memory didn’t do the house justice. Because it was more massive and grand and beautiful then he remembered. And of course, most important: it wasn’t a burnt down ruin.

It was good that Derek had put a hand on the low of his back, apprehensively but it was there, because Stiles wasn’t sure if he could stand.

 

            And it got worse. Stiles felt it in his gut, this storm, this whirlwind that was going on and evidently he was the collateral damage. Being torn from his roots and sucked up. Moving with the storm and holding on to what he knew to be true was the only thing he could really do.

            Derek had guided him inside, an anxious looking Talia already there. Stiles blanched a bit when he saw how much Derek looked like his mother. Talia wrapped Stiles in a big hug an touched his neck briefly. “Tell me.” She breathed. “What happened?”

 

They settled down in the living area, where Stiles was amazed by the immense space and various couches, love seats and lounge chairs. Derek related what had happened and Stiles added the things about his memory. During their conversation Derek’s father David and (of course that man existed in this reality as well) Peter Hale had come in and listened.

Peter nodded at Talia. “You remember, right?” Stiles shed worried glances between them. Not in the least because he had absolutely no trust in Peter Hale whatsoever. Even more so: the guy still scared him shitless. Stiles wasn’t inclined to tell the Hale’s that, right this minute though.

 

“You remember what?” Stiles demanded softly, bemused that they trusted his judgement so quickly. They were able to believe him so readily, it almost scared him.

Talia looked at him. “I’ve heard about a similar situation. I think it was around 1845 or something?” She looked at her husband for confirmation and he nodded. “We are not sure what triggers it. Something makes you switch with...”

Stiles interrupted her, his voice getting louder. “Switch? You mean there actually is another me with my Dad right now?” Talia’s eyes flashed red at the anger in Stiles voice and Stiles immediately backed up. Right. Talia was the Alpha here. No interrupting the Alpha obviously.

He then felt the support of Derek’s chest against his spine and he sighed. Ok he needed rapidly to get used to this Alpha obedience thing. Stiles knew he had a big mouth and shutting up wasn’t something that came easy for him. And even though he was used to mouth of to Derek at home, apparently here it just was ‘not done’.

Stiles thought about how Isaac always responded to Derek back home and decided that was probably the best course of action. So he bared his neck to Talia in submission.  The woman smiled as she touched his shoulder. “It’s ok. I know it is all confusing and you aren’t used to me. But do not do that again.”

 

After an awkward silence Peter picked up where Talia left off. “So....” he drawled. “Our Stiles is in the other universe trying to get back to here. And we have to send you back to your world.” Stiles looked up. “It’s that easy?” Talia got up and searched through various stacks of books until she found the one she needed.

She read through a few pages. “We need various herbs, a big circle and a crescending moon. And uhm.. we need to get that big mirror from the attic. And our Stiles has to do the same, otherwise it won’t work.”

It was Derek asking the question this time. “So our Stiles has to figure out the same? What happens if he doesn’t? I mean he is smart, however obviously he doesn’t have acces to these books.” Derek’s voice had started to sound more and more worried and Stiles shared that emotion. What if he was stuck here forever?

David and Peter shared an anxious glance, but Talia didn’t seem fazed. “Stiles?” she demanded his attention. “Do you know a man named Deaton?”

Stiles smiled relieved. “Yes. He is alive and helping Scott all the time. They will figure it out.” - Wait, was Scott even a werewolf here? Stiles filed that away for the moment. -

 Talia gave a satisfied grin. “Then I do not foresee any big trouble.”

 

Stiles wasn’t sure it could be this easy, though he didn’t doubt Talia’s words. However in his experience his life never was easy.

 

David suddenly sprung into action. “It’s a crescending moon tonight. Derek, Peter get that mirror to the maste0r bedroom. Talia what do you need for the herbs?” Talia conversed with David in a low tone as Derek and Peter hurried off.

 

Stiles put his head in his hands and as he tried to work through all the emotions and thoughts that were flung at him today. Freaking hell, this was a mess. He felt it again that weird feeling in his gut. He told himself to breathe before the panic attack could immerge.

 

A soft hand touching his knee startled Stiles. A girl with David’s eyes and Talia’s curls smiled up at him. He estimated her around eight years old. She handed him a book. “Will you read to me Stiles? With the funny voices?” Stiles blinked. Talia and David were still talking and Derek was nowhere to be seen so he tried to smile back.

The girl probably didn’t know he wasn’t the Stiles she knew and he couldn’t let her down. Those eyes reminded him too much of how his Derek would look at him occasionally. Although maybe his Derek might not even know that about himself.

Stiles smiled. “I’m a bit of a mess today, so I don’t know if I will do the voices right, but bare with me.” He told the girl. She sat down next to him on the couch folding her legs under her leaning a bit towards him, as he opened the book. “Where did you leave off?” The girl frowned for a second but then folded the book open on the right page. “ **We**... left off right here.” She spoke with a soft voice. It didn’t escape Stiles she put more emphasis on the ‘we’ part.

She then snuggled into his side a little more before she wrinkled her nose. “You smell funny.” She said. Stiles looked at the cutie next to him. So she **could** sense that there was something wrong then. He wondered why Derek hadn’t smelled that immediately. However, instead of lingering on the funny smell the girl had already put her thumb in her mouth and sighed.  “Ripercheep was just challenging Eustace.” She mumbled around her thumb.

Stiles started reading, making voices up as he went along with the story.

 

***

 

“Nena. There you are.” A voice broke into their story time. From the shadows in the room Stiles knew they had been reading quite a while. He hadn’t even noticed Talia and David leaving. Stiles and the girl both looked up to find a tall woman standing in front of them. Stiles breath hitched.

Lydia? No that wasn’t right. Scott had said he was with Lydia and this woman was older then Lydia was. However the resemblance was striking. The strawberry blonde hair, the eyes, the clothes. Stiles blinked again.

“Nena. Supper is ready. Your mother told me to get you. Go wash your hands.” The woman told the girl by his side. Nena got up from the couch and took the book from Stiles hands. “Thanks, Stiles.” Then she ran off.

 

The woman nodded, her face not unfriendly. “I’m Leila. You can come eat too. You have time.” Stiles had to take a deep breath as he followed her, trying to shake of the slumber that had settled in his mind. Was this real? This whole day had already been crap and this just added a whole new level of creepyness. Could it all get even more distorted?

Apparently it could. Peter came thundering down the stairs, Derek on his heels. Peter’s face lit up, which was a weird thing to see in itself, then he wrapped his arms around the woman in front of Stiles. “Hello, my love.” He whispered and kissed her cheek. It crept Stiles out how intensely happy Peter looked.  “Wait. You are married to a... uhm a Lydia look alike?” Stiles struggled to get the words out right and he knew they looked at him funny, ignoring his question.

 

Peter and his apparent wife entered the dining room, the immense table already filled with people.

Stiles hung back as his jaw dropped and he stared at all the activity in the room. A few more women putting food on the table. He noticed Nena surrounded by a few other children, already seated. Teenagers entered, shoving and punching each other.  A guy who definitely had to be Derek’s big brother folded his long legs under the table, talking to David. Talia helped an elder woman to sit down.

“It’s a lot to take in. I know.” A voice spoke softly behind him. Derek put a hand on Stiles shoulder. Stiles didn’t flinch, didn’t turn but nodded. “It is a lot but it’s also.... amazing. I always wished for a bigger family.”  Stiles snickered. “But it also feels like I’m dreaming. I know this isn’t for me to know but at the same time I’m trying very hard to put this to memory so I will remember when I get back. Is that weird?” Derek sighed, a longing in his presence, though he didn’t act on it. “It isn’t weird.”

 

A few more minutes passed. “Who are all these people?” Stiles asked in a conflicting but desperate move. He felt he wanted to know them before he went back. Derek pointed them ou one by one. “That’s Nena my little sister. Stiles smiled. “We’ve met.” He said. Derek told him the names of his brothers, cousins and other pack members. People not biologically linked to the Hales but were part of the pack. Some human, however most were were’s.

Derek grinned when he pointed to a pair of twins, about seven years old with reddish blond hair, who seemed to be gnawing at the table. “Those two boys are Peter and Laila’s.”           The snigger wasn’t completely audible but it was there. “Loki and Puck. They keep my uncle grounded.”  Stiles thought about that. If these little boys and Laila were Peter’s anchor then it wasn’t that strange the man had lost his mind after the fire. Stiles knew that Peter would always make use of a situation, but anyone who lost family in a violent would be a little crazy for a while. Stiles would never trust Peter but there was a little understanding now.

 

Somebody pushed past them bluntly. “Hey Stiles. What are you waiting for? Sit your ass down and tell me if my brother did as I told him.” The girl with dark hair turned her eyebrows expectant. Laura. Stiles swallowed. This was going to be harder then he thought.

 

*

 

When everyone was ready for desert Stiles finally noticed that someone was missing. Before he hadn’t noticed because of the thirty something people surrounding the large table, and the smaller children at a separate table. Several conversations going on  at the same time.

Stiles was in between Laura and Derek, enjoying the loud liveliness of the whole situation. Stiles had found that Laura and himself indeed got along extremely well, so he leaned in a little closer as he whispered as soft as he could:  “Is Cora stuck at school or something?”

The shocked silence told him, he hadn’t been careful enough, though. Derek’s hand clenched around his knife as a shuddered breath escaped him. Stiles looked up at the pained and angry looks he received from several people around the room.

Talia swallowed; the pain in her voice tore at Stiles. “We’re doing really good now, however Cora died in a car accident a few months ago. We’ve been... a little unstable for a while.”

Stiles stomped down his urge to solve a mystery, because this was not something he would be able to uncover without causing the Hale’s more hurt. Still, he was not stupid. For a werewolf to die in a car accident, either there had to have been some magic at work, or Cora had been so badly hurt that she wouldn’t have been able to heal. Stiles didn’t want his mind lingering on the few terrible options for that.

Instead he murmured his apologies and looked down at his empty plate. After a few minutes a warm hand made its way to his knee. Stiles couldn’t help but be grateful for Derek’s kind reassurance.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's it for now guys. I had to split this part up in a few chapters. Hope you all like it.
> 
> I found two great fics on LiveJournal made by entangled_now and poetess-noire.
> 
> The originals are here: http://poetess-noire.livejournal.com/42181.html  
> and here: http://libraryofsol.livejournal.com/199174.html#cutid1
> 
> I wrote the follow up on both those stories. And with their permission I put it up on LJ. (THANK YOU both for that!) Since I don't work with Live Journal much I decided to put it up here as well! The parts written in Italic are not mine but theirs. If you like the originals or my follow up please tell us.
> 
> Please ignore (or send me correction) for spelling or gramar mistakes because I have no Beta. And please help me tag this!


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